


Quiet

by my_own_reality



Series: Autistic Scott AU [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Alternative Universe - No Wolves, Asshole teachers, Autism, Autistic Character, Autistic Scott McCall, Autistic Scott needs to be a thing so I'm making it a thing, Beacon Hills High School, Bromance, High School, Jennifer Blake is an asshole, No Wolves AU, School, School Meltdown, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott-Centric, Stiles Stilinski is a Good Friend, Stim Toys, Stimming, autism meltdowns, autistic Scott, meltdowns, tangle toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:23:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_own_reality/pseuds/my_own_reality
Summary: Jennifer Blake is new to teaching and she likes to push. She pushes too hard.-------------------------------Or: Scott has a meltdown at school because teachers can suck.





	Quiet

Scott liked school. It was the same every week, a set routine that was meticulously organised and could be followed to the letter. Bells let you know what time to move from classrooms and you had the same classes at the same times every week. It was settling somehow.

 

Everyone knew about Scott’s autism, teachers and students alike, but he never got teased for it. Stiles said it was because he was too likeable but Scott doubted it. He knew he could be difficult, knew he insulted people sometimes without meaning to because he couldn’t read people the way he should be able to. It didn’t bother Scott too much, he had his mom and Stiles and Lydia and Isaac and Allison and Derek and that was all he needed.

When Scott’s English teacher retired and Jennifer Blake took over, it took him weeks before he felt comfortable in her classroom. This was different, a change he wasn’t ready for but had to accept anyway. Stiles sat with him and every now and then he would bump Scott’s knee under the table, a silent ‘you’re okay, I’m here’ that only worked because it was Stiles. Scott didn’t like Jennifer Blake, she always got too close when she handed out worksheets and she called on Scott too much, asked him questions he didn’t understand and wanted him to interpret passages of text. It was hard for Scott, interpretation, he couldn’t read the subtext, the hidden meanings and it made him anxious. But she kept asking almost every lesson and Scott wondered if maybe she was getting frustrated. He couldn’t tell.

 

“Scott, what do you think Hawthorne meant with this passage?” She was calling on him again, asking him to open the lock when he didn’t have the key.

 

Stiles bumped his knee, a silent support, as anxiety welled in Scott’s chest. He wasn’t ready for this, he didn’t know the answer, didn’t know what she was looking for.

 

“I don’t know,” He said and somehow managed not to stutter, flapping his hands under the table.

 

Ms. Blake sighed, small and almost inaudible but Scott heard, had learned that meant she was frustrated or tired or angry or maybe all three.

 

“Give it a go, what do you think he wanted to convey?” She plastered on a smile as she asked.

 

The stimming was getting worse, his leg bouncing, his hands flapping and he whispered, going through the room muttering people’s full names under his breath. Scott felt a gentle hand moving to draw soft circles into his hand and it stopped the flapping, stopped him from hurting himself.

 

“I - I don’t, don’t know, don’t know, don’t know” Stiles continued to circle his finger gently over Scott’s palm, it was soothing but it wasn’t enough, eyes were on him, so many eyes, Ms. Blake was waiting, expectant and probably disappointed, he didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know. He felt his chest start to tighten, he didn’t like this, he didn’t want this, he didn’t  _ know _ .

“Stiles I don’t want to be here anymore,” Scott’s voice is quiet but so is the classroom and it feels like it rings off the walls.

 

Ms. Blake sighs again, she does that a lot around Scott, and rubs her forehead.

 

“Scott, it’s not a hard question, I just need one answer and you still have 20 minutes before you  can leave this classroom,” Ms. Blake says before Stiles can respond.

 

“Stiles I don’t want to be here anymore,” Scott repeats, his eyes on the table, his voice slightly raised and his tone increasingly anxious.

 

“Okay Scotty, we can go,” Stiles starts collecting their things even as Ms. Blake protests because he knows a meltdown and he knows when one’s coming and he knows that this is the opposite of where Scott needs to be.

 

The stimming is getting worse and Ms. Blake is shouting at them as Stiles leads Scott out of the room. The sound echoes in Scott’s head, bouncing inside his skull and everything is too loud and too bright and too much. He feels the gentle pressure of Stiles’ hand pushing against his arm and lets himself be lead away from the classroom and noise, his hands now clamped firmly over his ears, coming away only to flap occasionally, the need to stim and move and  _ get rid of things, get rid of things, get rid of things _ , is unbearable. Everything is disjointed and overwhelming, the feeling of  _ too much, too much, too much,  _ digs in his skin, works through his bones, it’s everywhere all at once. He registers slowly that it’s dark, that the light is gone and the noise is gone and Stiles is all that’s left, just the way he likes it. He’s in his quiet room. 

“You coming back to me Scotty? That’s it, you got this, we got this, not more noise, it’s okay Scotty,” Stiles is whispering and the only touch is a finger drawing circles in his palm and Scott doesn’t know how long it’s been, hours, minutes, days, but he feels better now, the world is falling back into order. A weighted blanket sits over his shoulders and Stiles holds the stimming toy he keeps in his bag in the hand that’s not tracing circles in his palm. 

“You with me Scotty?” 

Scott nods, taking the stim toy from Stiles’ hand and twirling it between his fingers. The movement is calming, both absent minded and something to focus on. 

 

The quiet room came about 2 months into Scott starting high school. Meltdowns weren’t a daily occurrence but they were common enough to cause problems. At home Scott had weighted blankets, stim toys, blackout curtains in his room and wave noises ready on a player to help when things became too much. At school, things were harder. Finding somewhere quiet in a building full of thousands of teenagers that suited Scott’s sensory needs was far easier said than done. It was quickly established that Stiles, regardless of whether he was in class with Scott or not, would be called in the event of a meltdown. If it was really serious his mum would be called too, but Stiles was good at making things better and it was rarely necessary. The quiet room was created through the combined efforts of Stiles, Scott, his mum and the school nurse. The nurse’s office consisted of an open area with a desk and an emergency first aid kit and a small private room for treating more serious injuries. After one serious meltdown too many, the principal became subject to the angry rants of both Melissa and Stiles combined, which was enough to make anyone cower, and it was agreed that the private room would be fitted with blackout curtains, a box placed in the corner with some stim toys and a weighted blanket, and the quiet room was born. It was still used to treat serious injury, but those were few and far between so they had yet to run into a incident where Scott needed the quiet room and it wasn’t available. 

 

“We good Scotty?” Stiles’ voice was barely above a whisper, a level he would maintain until he knew Scott could handle anything louder. 

Scott hesitated for a moment, thought about how his skin felt under the soft cotton of his red shirt Monday shirt, and then nodded.

“Five more minutes?” Stiles asked, because he always knew to ask.

Scott nodded again.

Five minutes stretched to ten, where Stiles whisper babbled to give Scott something to listen to and Scott stimmed gently with the tangle toy and the whole world calmed down enough to be manageable. Another ten passed before Scott was ready to leave the quiet room and Stiles walked with him to his next class, sliding into the seat beside him even though this wasn’t Stiles’ class and he was supposed to be two doors down. The tangle toy stayed mobile in his hands for the rest of the day and that night he needed the wave noises to fall asleep because things still felt too full but Jennifer Blake, who seemed to go slightly red every time she looked at Stiles for too long, didn’t ask him questions in English after that.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments and requests so drop them below!!


End file.
